X-Men: Fall of the Apocalypse
by Dominique Delacruz
Summary: The long awaited sequel to the award winning fanfiction story is here. Left alone to wonder the wastes of Earth, Logan finds himself detached from all worldly matters, and discovers a hidden secret that is his only hope of bringing peace back to the desolate land. But what will he do with this power? Is one man really enough to stop the Apocalypse?


He stood alone, gazing over the flaming ashes of Charles Xavier, the only one who could stop Apocalypse. Now there he was, just a pile of ash, sitting in the lonesome of the wheel chair. As he dug his way through the ashes, which was 2 metres deep, he finally found it. The one gleaming hope left that left the X Men with a slim chance of fighting against Apocalypse.

It was Logan's personal cigarette.

Logan had risen from the rubble that buried his body, and though he lost his adamantium claws and healing process, his body had withstood many years of pain. He took the cigarette, and lit it using the flames that were still burning on his fingertips.

"Wow, this is some good stuff." He mumbled to himself. Then he looked back at Xavier's ashes. "Thanks bub, for giving me one hell of a smoke with your ashes."

As he was about to leave the area, he heard the fluttering of feet to his right. Picking up a nearby rubber ducky. He brandished it as how a barbarian would have brandished a club, and readied himself for any incoming attack.

Before he could react, however, he found himself whisked away in a rainbow of colors, and then found himself in the middle of a doll house.

He was in the House of Barbie. Spiderman's Home.

"Good to see you're alive and kicking, claw-man."

Logan turned around, only to see a spider with eight human legs speaking to him. Looks like this was spiderman's true form, he thought to himself. Before spiderman could react, he pulled off one of the legs and started to bash him to death with it. Logan was then lost in his bloodrage, the screams of spiderman being nothing but a whispering wind in his ears.

"Sometimes," he said. "Wars are not won by words, but by actions." With the still moving leg of Spiderman in his arms, he leapt into spiderman's stomach, and was teleported to the homeworld of Apocalypse.

As he slowly made his way towards the homeworld, he reminisced of all the good times he had with his former brother-in-arms, pouring boiling water over Xavier's head, watching Storm get blown off in her own hurricane, and best of all, watching Cyclops accidentally destroying a fully occupied hospital.

And then there were also the bad times, such as saving the president from an assassination, rescuing kids from a burning orphanage, and allowing mutants like himself to live. He hated these memories, as there were of no excitement to him at all.

As the teleportation device reached its peak, he whizzed off yet again into another world. This time one full of candy canes and sewage water. This must be the land of apocalypse. Atop a throne made of spare tires, iron nails, wires, basketballs, Christmas trees and shoulder guards, was a figure clad in pure white Deep V neck T-shirts. He was of lean build, with an ass so round it put circles to shame.

There it was, Apocalypse.

Wolverine had finally reached him.

And this time, it would end in his way.

He could see it, it was all right in front of him. The source of all that was disgusting and smelly in the world. He gripped Spiderman's Leg. Hard.

He walked up the steps towards the thron of apocalypse, doubtful that he could muster any strength left in him to fulfil his destiny of defeating the one and only apocalypse. Maybe I shouldn't do this, he thought. Maybe I can still go back and smoke some weed beside the Ashes of Xavier. Ah, good old times…

But it was too late, while he was deep in thought, he walked to the top of the steps and continued walking towards the magnificent body of apocalypse without even knowing it. As soon as he got out of his train of thought, he looked up into the face of the candy-cane coloured demon.

Then he remembered.

The only way to stop Apocalypse.

He spat his cigarette to the floor, and said:

"Sometimes actions speak louder than words."

He dropped the Leg, raised his hand and pointed his middle finger towards Apocalypse. And with a quick motion, dug his middle finger into the nostril of Apocalypse. The sudden motion caused Apocalypse to fall down in pain, rolling off his steps while clutching his nose. And then he stopped moving altogether. Pink and Turquoise mucus dripping out from every single hole imaginable in his body.

It was done, Apocalypse was dead.

But what happens now?


End file.
